With Perseverance, Happiness
by entre-lagrimas-y-suspiros
Summary: AU. Katharine of Aragon has suffered for one reason, she has not given England a healthy son. Anne, her loyal lady in waiting, is witness to that suffering. Femmeslash.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This is completely AU. Implied Femmeslash. Don't like don't read. _

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June 1519

Anne walked behind Beth into the Queen's bedchamber. In the hall, the King was celebrating the birth of the son he'd gotten off Bessie Blount. The music and revelry could be heard through half the palace. In the Queen's apartments, there was no sound joyous or sorrowful. Nothing could be heard. There was silence so thick it snuffed out all sound and thought.

She felt a weight in her chest, something pure and hard pressing against her heart. It was anger mixed with sympathy in such a way as to rob her of breath. Earlier that night she had seen the most dignified woman in Christendom toast to her husband's bastard son. Anne glared. How could the she do that? How could she stand to congratulate her husband over a bastard? A boy that would become for many proof that the failure of male heir rested only with the Queen. Anne didn't believe this to be true. Her majesty was a good pious woman who wanted nothing more than to give England the son it needed. Anne believed she had simply been unlucky, for she had given the king two son's but one live only a few hours and the other a month. She had been very unlucky, but even so she had not turned into a hard woman. Queen Katharine still showed her husband favor, despite his affairs, his ill care of her, and now his bastard. Anne thought the Queen still loved him, why she still did was beyond Anne.

She looked up just in time to avoid walking into Beth who had stopped at the threshold of the Queen's oratory. Anne held her breath as she watched the Queen at her prie-dieu her eyes fixed on the statue of the Virgin Mary, her lips moving quickly yet making no sound. Her robe seemed to stick to her body, her long russet color hair was matted down with sweat, and her forehead was covered in beads of sweat some so heavy they fell down her face in the place of tears. It was the saddest site she'd ever seen.

Anne felt her chest constrict with fresh anger. How could the King be so cruel? Why make such a fuss over Bessie's son, he was a bastard and couldn't inherit unless the Pope legitimized him. That road was hard and long, and in Anne's mind hardly worth the effort considering he had a legitimate heir. She knew men feared female rulers. They all thought that if a woman wielded power it could bring only disaster. English history certainly seemed to confirm it. Yet Anne thought it was clear that a woman brought up to rule, educated to do so, could rule a country as easily as any man. Queen Katharine's mother Isabela was a perfect example that even in war women could be the equal of men. The Queen despite her ill luck in the childbed had given the King a healthy daughter. He called her the pearl of his world. If the King meant it why did he not put his efforts into making sure the nobles were loyal to the princess Mary. If the infant princess were anything like her mother she would do great things for England. Why did he not bolster her claim to the throne? Why waste time with bastards?

She had searched for the answer many times, yet she could not find it. Perhaps the twisted logic of it could only make sense to men. On thinking this she realized she had never been happier to be a woman. Despite the way women were treated at the hands of their fathers and husbands, despite the danger in bearing children and the danger in not bearing them, it was still much better for at least she knew the incontrovertible truth...women were the equal of men. They were just as ambitious, cunning, intelligent, and courageous. Certainly, the woman kneeling in front of the altar was all of those things. Anne took a deep breath realizing she did not believe the queen to be the equal of her husband. Queen Katharine was his better. While the King was ruled his passions and driven by his appetites, the Queen was intellectual and analytical. It was obvious she felt things deeply; she certainly loved her daughter as any mother would, but she wasn't ruled by her emotion. Anne had always admired that.

The Queen rose slowly and gave a small moan of pain as she did. Anne more impetuous than Beth rushed to her side, helping her walk into her bedchamber. It took no time at all for Anne to realize that something was wrong with her majesty, though she didn't know what it could be. She had never seen the queen in such a state and it stirred another surge of sympathy and anger accompanied with fear. The queen stopped beside the bed and Anne moved behind her ready to take the robe from her majesty, except the Queen did not shrug it from her shoulders. Anne waited a moment and then reached for the robe pulling it off her shoulders a little too quickly and making the Queen hiss. Anne stopped, wanting to ask if she was all right but she held her tongue fear increasing with every quick breath her majesty drew. She pulled the robe the rest of the way slowly. She heard a gasp as she finished her task and looked up to find Beth starring in horror at the Queen's nightshirt. Anne looked back at the Queen, unable to say anything.

Queen Katharine straightened her back a little, and couldn't contain the small sound of anguish that escaped her lips. "You may go Elizabeth, Lady Anne will help me into bed."

Beth looked between the Queen and Anne, curtsied, and turned to leave giving Anne a meaningful look. Anne didn't avoid her gaze, but knew not how to respond. Beth was only 16, but she had become a favorite and the Queen relied on her for everything. Yet, now her majesty wanted only Anne to remain. She didn't know if it was the gasp that had escaped Beth, but Anne felt no joy in being picked for this task.

"I will need a new nightshirt, Lady Anne."

Anne nodded, and retrieved a clean nightshirt for the Queen. She placed it on the bed and turned her attention once more to her majesty. The nightshirt on her majesty was matted to her back, stained red with the Queen's own blood. The cloth of the shirt was torn where the whip had landed cutting through it to the flesh below. Anne took hold of the hem of the shirt and pulled it off slowly, her eyes filling with tears as the Queen bit back moans. Why would she do something like this? Why punish herself in that way? In the fours years Anne had been in the Queen's service she had never seen anything like it. Her majesty was very devout. She believed in God, and in showing her devotion with rigorous prayer, yet never had Anne seen any sings of mortifying her flesh. It was a sight too shocking for words yet she had a job to do.

"Would you like me to wash the wounds?" Her voice trembled, and the Queen turned to look her. Anne's breath caught in her throat. Queen Katharine gave a nod. Anne could feel her resolve crumbling and turned towards the washbasin. She filled it with water and saw a tear drop into it. She bit her lip to stop any sound escaping. She needed to help the queen. Whatever horror she felt over what the queen had done and why would have to wait until she was safely in her own rooms.

Washcloth in hand she walked back to the Queen, and began the task of washing away the blood from the Queen's back. It took a long time as one of the wounds was deep and kept bleeding. She applied pressure to it and felt the Queen's back go rigid, before her chest fell in, and the most horribly pain filled '_Dios mio_' was heard. She dropped her head. "Majesty…" She said feeling the tears overwhelm her.

They stayed like that for several moments, neither of them truly comfortable with the situation but unable to pull away. Eventually the Queen did move away and Anne helped her put on the clean nightshirt.

"Thank you, Lady Anne." Anne looked into the gray-blue eyes through the blur of tears and found herself drowning in her own emotions. Too much had happened that night. She had seen too much and had been too close. Now she felt something fragile snap at the look in the Queen's eyes. The woman she had admire for her courage and poise, the woman that had waged war against Scotland, the woman that had survived the loss of so many children, the woman that had faced so much sorrow with dignity looked broken. Anne could no longer contain her tears. She wanted to take the look from the Queen's eyes. She wanted so much to pick up the pieces for her and guard them against ever being mistreated again. Anne chocked on the lump of emotion rising in her throat, as she realized what she wanted. She wanted to make Katharine of Aragon happy. It was a ludicrous thought. She should vanquish any such notion, but she couldn't. However impossible the task, however unwanted the feeling was, Anne could not deny the truth. She wanted to serve the Queen in every way, provide her every happiness, healing all her wounds, physical and emotional, and kiss away all her sorrow.

She staggered under the realization falling back a step. The Queen reached out to her, taking hold of her hand as she rocked on her heels feeling dizzy. "Lady Anne." Her majesty's eyes were full of worry now, and Anne felt her heart constrict anew. That the Queen should in her darkest hour find sympathy in her heart for Anne was overwhelming and humbling.

She felt her heart burst with tenderness. Anne dropped into a low curtsy, her hand grasping the Queen's and said the words that had bubbled up inside her like boiling water, burning her as they made their way out. "If I were him, I would never have looked away from you pleasing face. Never would have sought pleasure in another." Anne dared to look up at the Queen then. "For there is no one in this kingdom, in this world, as beautiful and graceful as your majesty." Anne rose then and kissed the Queen's hand without permission. "If I were him I would endeavor only to make you happy."

Queen Katharine looked at her with an amused expression. "The kingdom would fall to ruin, with all your attention on me." Anne cast her gaze on the floor as shame colored her cheeks. She had not thought before speaking and now the Queen was making light of it. A hand reached under her chin gently and Anne looked up at her majesty. The gray-blue eyes were brighter, less hunted, than before, and the rosy lips curved up a little. "I did not mean to jest. Your kind words touch and cheer me greatly." Her majesty sighed. "If wishing made it so, Lady Anne this night would be very different indeed."

"Yes, your majesty." Anne said unable to think of anything more appropriate. For the Queen was right if wishing made something so, Anne would not have to leave her this night or any other night. Anne said nothing of this; she had overstepped her bounds already. The Queen stepped back and her hand slipped out of Anne's. The moment was over and gone, and she couldn't say anything even if she'd dare.

"You will wake me in the morning." Queen Katharine slipped under the sheets and lay ever so carefully against the pillows grimacing as she did.

The task of waking and dressing her majesty had been Beth's for the last year, yet now it would be hers. Anne did not know for sure if it was her actions or her words that prompted the change, but she felt a surge of anticipation at the honor. She arranged the sheets over the Queen and curtsied low. "Good night, majesty."

"Sleep well lady Anne."

Anne smiled at the Queen and saw a different look on her face. It was serious, pensive; as if her majesty was debating with herself the action she was taking. Anne felt a tide of feeling well up in her once more at that look. She found herself confounded by it and mesmerized all at once. Not knowing what to think or do, she curtsied once more and left.


	2. Chapter 2

****_AN: Hey there readers. I had put up this chapter a couple of weeks ago, but took it down to revise. I hope you continue to enjoy the story and thanks for reading __and reviewing. ~ xio _

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**November 1521 **

She drove the needle through the cloth again and again, with more force each time. She had been trying to distract herself for the last hour, but it was no use. There could be no distraction. Every lady that sat in the Queen's apartments sewing or playing cards, every lord that was out riding with the King, even the servants were all holding their breath. The whole country waited impatiently for fate to take its course. They waited to see if the new babe in the royal nursery would follow its siblings into heaven or stay with them as the Princess Mary had done.

The pregnancy had been a shock to the court, which knew the King disliked his husbandly duties and sated himself elsewhere. It had not been a surprise to Anne. She was the last lady to see her majesty at night and the first to see her when she woke. She lodged in rooms where she could be with the Queen at a moment's notice, within the Queen's very apartments. Her days all revolved around knowing what her majesty was doing and what she needed. She had been there the previous winter when the King drunk and angry had burst upon the Queen's bedchamber and demanded that she lay with him. She had been stun by his words, Anne could tell by the delay in the Queen's answer that she had been as well. Her majesty had accepted him into her arms and was even apologetic, as if his absence from her bed had been her choice. Anne had made a hasty retreat to the antechamber where two of the King's grooms had already made themselves comfortable. She had opened a book and started her vigil.

That had been at Candlemas, by May Day all the ladies knew and his majesty was informed. The physicians kept a close eye on the Queen and in September, she had moved to Greenwich ahead of the court for her confinement. There the princess had pushed herself into the world early. She was small and looked weak. The midwives had not been optimistic, but when the child was placed in her majesty's arms a smile broke across her lips and she kissed the babe's face whispering words of love to her. Anne had not been sure until that moment whether the Queen was glad of another pregnancy, but it was obvious she was. The King had not been disappointed with the birth of a daughter, for he had no expectations. In fact, Anne knew very well that he had presumed the Queen would miscarry the child. The babe had survived her first days despite the midwives' pessimism and the King's coldness. She had been christened after a week. Her majesty had wanted to name her Isabela after her mother or Elizabeth after the King's mother. Anne had thought the King would at least acknowledge the compliment, but he hadn't. He had been resolute that the child would be name Katharine like her mother. The Queen had smiled sweetly as if she could think of nothing more pleasing, but it was obvious in the King's expression that he paid her no compliment. Anne thought he looked almost as if he were cursing the child by giving it the Queen's name. It looked to her as if the King had tether the child's life to its mother, so that if the babe died it would be clear to everyone that it was the Queen who had snuffed out its life.

The princess Katharine had slept soundly in her crib for eight weeks yet the King still acted as if he expected her to slip away into the next world. The court followed his example and even the announcement of her birth had been delayed on the King's command. So, they were still waiting. They waited for the King to acknowledge that the wife he all but abandoned had given him a second child, a princess, true, but a healthy one. If the little princess continued to draw breath, she would be a sign to the whole world that God had finally heard the Queen's many prayers. Finally, all the time that her majesty had spent on her knees would have paid off. For if the Lord blessed the Queen with two strong healthy daughters he could just as easily bless her with the heir the King so desired. Yet, if by some reason the princess perished, Anne shook her head, unable to think what the King might do. The King no longer loved the Queen as he once did, everyone at court could see it. She was no longer the slim beautiful fair-faced girl she had been when they'd married. Her majesty was stouter now, her petite frame and waist thickened by her six pregnancies. Her face was a little fuller too, but Anne thought she was still very beautiful. The King might no longer like his wife, but many of his nobles still looked at Queen Katharine and found her pleasing to the eyes despite her 36 years. Anne had always agreed with these lords whose eyes still followed her majesty as she walked past. Her opinion, nor that of those nobles, mattered for the King's eyes didn't follow the Queen. His eyes strayed.

Beth walked into the privy chamber and stood just inside the door glancing about. Anne knew she was looking for her, yet she could not make a fuss of Beth's entrance. Things had to be done quietly; it was her majesty's wish. She caught Beth's eye and waiting patiently for her to cross the length of the room to her. "How is she?" Anne asked the moment Beth was settled beside her. Beth smiled at her and Anne sighed, relaxing a little knowing Beth would not smile so if something had gone amiss.

"Beautiful."

Anne ignored her friend's answer. She knew Princess Kate was beautiful, she was the very image of her mother, but there were more important attributes and graces the little princess need to posses. "But is she strong?"

Beth nodded, "Yes, she nurses with gusto. Her eyes a bright and alert, and the maids say she grows in weight."

Anne allowed herself to relax fully. If all Beth said was true there was reason to hope that she would remain in this world. If that happened the King would be appeased, for the moment, and it would give the Queen more time to fulfill her duty to England. She gave Beth's hand a brief squeeze before moving to the Queen's bedchamber. Inside the Queen laid against the pillows of her bed. The birth cost her much, and even now, she had little energy. Anne thought her majesty's condition had more to do with the King's attitude than any real physical impediment. It was one of the many ways the King had been affecting her recently. One more in a long list of offenses he had made in their more than 12 years of marriage. She curtsied briefly and gave her majesty an encouraging smile.

"Has Beth returned?"

Anne nodded, "The princess is strong and growing. I think she has made this land her kingdom and will not give it up." The Queen's lips quirked in response to her words and Anne felt glad of it. Her most important duty in those uncertain days had been not to watch over the princess, but over the Queen. Her majesty was made of stern stuff, stern enough to do her mother Isabela proud, but she had been through so much of late.

Apart from her pregnancy, her majesty had been made to endure the King's latest flirtation. Ever since Bessie Blount birthed her bastard, the powerful families had being vying with each other to push one of their pretty daughters into the King's bed. None had so far succeeded. The King had had dalliances, many in fact, but they were short-lived affairs that won almost nothing for the lady. However, as the Queen's pregnancy had progressed through the summer someone new had come to court and captured the King's affections. Anne had been stun to learn that the girl that had succeeded where others had failed, the one that in one summer had ensnared the King, while Anne attended to her majesty, was her own sister. The news had been a blow to the Queen. Anne cared not to remember the way her majesty had paled when she had first seen Mary dance with the King, flirting with him all the while getting indecently close to him as they moved. Anne had feared that Queen Katharine, only just churched, would fall sick with grief. Thankfully, her majesty had shown yet again that she would not bow to adversity, she would face it head on no matter what.

"I will visit her." Anne moved quickly to the bedside and helped her majesty up. "I have not seen her in a week. Perhaps we might see Mary as well." She smiled again as her majesty spoke. Her voice was filled once more with the determined tone Anne had become accustomed to. "They will need new dresses for the arrival of the new imperial ambassador."

"Yes, your majesty."

"You will make arrangements, Anne."

"I will gladly do anything you command." The Queen's hand landed softly on her cheek, it was a little chilled but its weight felt good against her skin. She starred, mesmerized, into her majesty's expressive eyes. "Every wish," Anne murmured ready to declare her devotion. Moments like that one, when the Queen allowed her eyes to say what she might not, where so seldom that Anne felt almost compelled to speak. The Queen, however, shook her head halting any declarations. Anne swallowed the words for a more appropriate time. There would be a better time she was sure. The Queen knew of her feelings, her devotion, perhaps she did not know the strength of them yet, but that would change with time. Besides Anne thought that the knowledge of her feelings gave her majesty some comfort. That she had decided long ago was reason enough to not squash those feelings. "The Cardinal is making arrangements for three weeks hence."

Her majesty moved away, returning to the conversation as Anne had done. "Good, Henry will have to present Kate to him during the Christmas celebrations. Then he will be forced to send out the announcement." The Queen seemed almost to be speaking to herself as she said this, but then she turned back to Anne. "They will know that I have not yet been defeated." She said with a triumphant smile upon her lips. "There is hope once more."

"Yes, your majesty."

The Queen reached out her hand and Anne took it, "Come lady Anne, we are to see the Princesses of England."

In the privy chamber, everyone seemed to halt what he or she did to watch the Queen walk from her chamber. Back erect, head held high, and eyes bright with defiance she was every bit the Queen of England. This woman was regal down to the very last hair on her head, and she demanded to be treated as such. She might not be able to force her husband to recognize it, but the court saw it easily. It was why her majesty still had so many loyal friends at court. She was what a Queen ought to be, and on that day she was a Queen reborn, for there was hope. Katharine of Aragon would fill all of England once more with hope, and all of Christendom would know that she was as great a Queen in childbed as she was in the presence chamber.


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: I wanted to thank all of you who've read, reviewed, followed, and/or __favorited this story, it is much appreciated. Enjoy. _

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June 1522

Anne sighed heavily as the maids went about their business at incredibly slow speeds. The way they were moving one would think the queen was not in her chambers. Truly, given the sensitive nature of their business there that morning, Anne would have liked them to enter, yank the sheets off the bed, and be gone in a few minutes. The two maids, bulky women well past forty, seem to think nothing of spending half the hour changing the sweat soaked sheets. Anne almost cringed as she thought of it. Katharine of Aragon, Queen of England, had the spent the previous night tossing and turning, soaking the bed sheets in sweat as a wave of heat had overtaken her. Anne had found her that morning standing by the large window and still wearing the soaked nightshirt and a look of humiliation on her sweet face. For a moment, Anne had feared that she had slept through some tragedy. A cold shiver had traveled her spine at the thought of princess Katharine's small body cold and still. Thankfully nothing of the kind that taken place, death had stayed far from Whitehall that night, but what had occur was extremely important and very damaging to the queen if it should become known.

Their great Queen was beginning her life change. The end of her fertile years was on the horizon. Rumors of this had circulated the court since princess Mary's birth. Everyone seemed to believe that the Queen's lack of pregnancies was entirely to do with her no longer being able to bear children. Those rumors had been silenced with the birth of little Katharine, but now it seemed that they would become reality. Anne didn't want to think of the dangerous position the Queen would find herself if the maids were indiscrete.

She could at least console herself with the knowledge that tongues would wag in vain yet again, for though the Queen had soaked her sheets, she still bleed. It wasn't regular anymore; of course, the queen was 37 after all. She was three years short of her fourth decade of life and the point at which it was generally assumed a woman became, if not old then at least no longer young. The years of childbearing would be behind her then. Anne knew this assumption to be wrong. She had seen her own mother struggle through her 'change' for five long years that began only after she turned 42, suffering through one last pregnancy in that time. Obviously that would not be the case for the queen, even if her 'change' lasted five years as well by 42 she would be past it. Still that gave her five years to play with, five years to continue her fight for a healthy prince. Yet, the look on her majesty's face that morning had been one of defeat.

Anne had done her best to remove the look from the queen's face even going as far as revealing her mother's own history. Surely, Anne had told the queen, she could not give up yet. There was time, she had reassured her. It had taken only a little cajoling after that to get the queen into a bath and procure the most trustworthy maids in the castle to change the bed sheets. Anne had given the task of bathing and dressing her majesty to Beth, a task she relinquished rarely, and took the task of picking and supervising the maids herself. She would go as far as bribing them in order to keep the incident quiet.

It wasn't that she didn't believe that the queen had time enough yet to try for a son; it was more to do with the fact that their king was a fickle man. Anne was almost certain that if he ever found out the queen had begun her 'change' then he would never go into her bed again. Given how little he desired that bed already, it would be disastrous for her majesty.

"Done, my lady." One of the maids said as she tossed the sheets into a basket.

"Remember what I've told you. This cannot be known." The older one huffed a bit as if she had never thought of divulging the information. Perhaps she hadn't, but Anne needed to make sure. "I have the Queen's ear, a very powerful position, and I can be friend or foe. Do we understand each other?"

Each of them nodded in turn, and stretched out their hand. Anne filled her palm with gold sovereigns from a pouch the queen had given her and divided the money equally among the maids.

"None will ever know, my lady."

Anne glared at them for good measure, "See that they don't." She said and watched them exist the bedchamber.

"You have quiet a way with people, lady Anne."

She turned, almost jumping, towards the door of the queen's robing room where the bath had been set-up. She stood in her chemise and kirtle, frame by the door. She looked... Anne pushed the thought away; it was not the time to think of such things. "Majesty, how do you feel?"

The queen walked towards her. "Much more calm, thanks to you."

"I only did what I could. I'm sorry that I can do more." The last of it was a low whisper, as many of her confessions were. The words might be common, completely appropriate for her position and the Queen's, but the sentiment behind them wasn't common at all. The feeling Anne tried very hard to hide behind those words always came through clearly for the Queen. They spent to much time together for there to be any doubt left in Katharine of Aragon's mind about what Anne felt for her.

The queen stepped closer to her, and Anne moved, as if pulled by an unseen force, until they were within an arms length of each other. A small delicate hand held onto Anne's hand. Their fingers becoming intertwine easily. The queen seemed to have the power to command Anne's body to do as she willed with the faintest of touches. A faint tug pulled her ever closer until they were almost breathing the same air. For a moment, she thought the Queen might kiss her. Looking up into the beautiful blue-grey eyes, she was certain it was longing she saw there. Even as her heart pulled her towards the Queen, Anne took a step back. Her majesty was not yet recovered from her terrible night and Anne could never act, or even allow her majesty to act, at such a vulnerable moment.

"You are much more than a lady in waiting. More than a favorite. I hope you've realized this already."

The words sank through her chest and into her heart. For a moment couldn't find words to express her gratitude or anything else for that matter. "Majesty," She acknowledged them, dipping into a curtsy, while keeping a tight hold on the delicate hands. It was the closest the Queen had ever come to saying the words Anne so longed to hear. The same words which for fear she had kept unsaid.

Beth exited the robing room with clothes for the queen. Anne released the Queen's hands and stood quickly. She'd forgotten the blonde's presence completely. From the look on the queen's face, she had as well. "Here Beth," she said taking the dress and avoiding the queen's eyes, "The dark blue shoes will go well with this, Beth."

"Of course." Beth nodded and left almost instantly.

They were friends. They still shared the room closest to the queen's apartments. They shared their days and most of their duties. They also shared a love and loyalty for the Queen and the princesses. Thankfully, Beth seem to realize that Anne had become the Queen's favorite and deferred to her while they were performing their duties. It had never come in more handy than now, for surely if Beth had stayed in the room with them she would have noticed the charged air between Anne and the queen. That was the worst possible scenario Anne could think of. She hardly knew what had transpired between then herself. Anne loved the queen, the way a woman was not supposed to love another woman. She known of her feelings for years now, had named it for what it was over a year ago. She knew the feelings would never amount to much, but it had always been obvious that the Queen took comfort in her affection. Yet, never had there been a clear indication that Katharine of Aragon returned that affection, never mind a verbal declaration.

It was, Anne thought, for the best, because now she hardly knew what to do with herself. In the end, she fell back on the familiar. She picked up the gown and began to dress the queen. Anne kept her gaze clear of the blue-grey depths that always managed to pull words of devotion from her. She could still feel the queen's sweet breath on her cheek. It would be so easy for her to give voice to her heart and state in a manner neither of them could possibly misunderstand what she felt for Katharine of Aragon. That, however, would not do. Anne refused to add to the Queen's already burden mind. Her feelings were only meant to comfort the Queen so that she knew she had a trusted friend, nothing more. She stepped back to allow Beth access willing, thinking it better to take a moment, however brief, to finish getting her wits about her.

"Lady Anne," The Queen called to her, her gaze probing Anne's face. "Come, we are to mass."

Mass had never come at a better time. For an hour, she let the latin words of the King's chaplain wash over her. She stood just to the side of altar with all the Queen's ladies and honor maids, usually she used the great vantage point to enjoy the Queen's beauty, for never was she more unguarded then when she prayed, but that day she could see nothing and hear nothing. She would give God his due attention when the Queen prayed in the evening. Once the waiver and the wine had been tasted not only by their majesties, but everyone present Anne felt someone take her hand.

"I need to speak with you, sister."

Anne turned her head only marginally to look at Mary. Her sister had rarely approached her, especially when Anne was attending the Queen. She had always preferred it. Though she still loved Mary dearly, she was family after al, but she could not forgive her role as the King's mistress, not when she had seen how it hurt the Queen. Anne gave a little nod and made her way through the ladies out of the chapel. "I hope this is important."

Mary seemed to wilt a little at her tone, but nodded. "There is news of importance. News the Queen has to be made aware of."

Anne frowned at her sister's cryptic speech. "Out with Mary, I have to get back."

"I know you think poorly of me. I realize the Queen most hate me, but I don't feel the same way."

She took a deep breath to calm the impatience growing inside her. Mary wouldn't have bothered her if it weren't truly important. "Mary..."

"I am with child. I didn't want her to be in the dark about it. I believe papa and uncle Howard are planning something, but I don't know what. I just thought..." Mary looked at her pleadingly then.

Anne looked into the amber eyes, innocent still despite everything, and knew that she was sincerely concern for the Queen. In that moment she saw quiet clearly that her sister was nothing more than a puppet, playing the role their family had crafted for her. She took her hand in her own and squeezed it a little. "Tell me."

"She needs to be ware of our family's ambition."

"Mary?"

She shook her head wildly. "They wont tell me, they wont say anything that might upset me now. But, you and I, both know father enough to know what he'd do if I birth the King a son."

Anne looked at her puzzled. "He can do nothing."

Mary sighed. "Anne...Was Fitzroy not elevated this past Yuletide?"

"Fitzroy is a bastard, as your child will be." She didn't even try to sound kind in her confusion. The mass had ended and she could hear the Queen and the ladies making their way to that very passageway.

"But, what if it is not?"


End file.
